


Five People That Helped Make Bambi A Man

by JustLyra



Category: MotoGP RPF, Motorcycling RPF
Genre: F/M, Five Times, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-02 13:02:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5249192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustLyra/pseuds/JustLyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the title says....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Listening

Neither of them would win be able to pinpoint when  _it_ began, truth be told neither of them could even explain what _it_ was. They suspected, strongly suspected, they weren't the only ones, but they would never actually know, just as anyone who suspected about them would ever truly know.

It started innocently enough. A mere byproduct of two teenagers sharing bunk beds in a motor home. Emilio would pack them off to bed, in their minds ridiculously early, and they'd have hushed conversations and giggles about the girls they'd seen that day. Grid girls being stunning, plentiful, and completely out of reach for a pair of goofy early teens with legs too long, faces too red and voices not yet broken. 

The conversation would leave them both in the natural state of any young teenager talking about such things. So they'd both go quiet, hoping the other would fall asleep first, that offering the opportunity for fumbly fingers to push under their boxers.

More often than not the other wasn't actually asleep. They'd both just been trying to con the other. So instead of either the peace of sleep, of the relaxation of a silent wank, bottom lip badly bitten in a desperate bid to stifle any moans that could disturb the other, or God forbid  _Emilio._

Once the final stifled moan has been muffled into the pillow, and the rustling of sheets had calmed, the other was left with a dilemma. They could either try and sleep, hoping the hard on vanished, or at least they didn't roll over Giving themselves a painful wake up call, or they could wait again. Hoping the other actually fell asleep for real, and didn't hear him wanking, or at least hoping if he did hear he didn't think _his_  muffled moans were the soundtrack.

The first time Alex realised that they were wanking at the same time was etched in his brain. His body froze, all urge gone, as he realised that the muffled moan, that happened just as he fondled his balls was actually from _Alex_. Stifling the feeling of wanting to be sick be rolled onto his side, facing the wall and stuffed his headphones into his wars, music loud, as he tried to escape any more noises. His body, however, had different ideas. The dream he had that night was positively _filthy._ The next time it was Alex's moan that tipped him over the edge. Both of them just lying in their bunks, hand covered in cum, trying to work out what the other was thinking about what had just happened.

Things progressed, as things tend to do. They stopped pretending they were waiting on the other to fall asleep. Both got into the habit of listening for the other, timing it so they came at the same time, that became a thing, another unspoken rule. There were several unspoken rules - they never spoke, never acknowledged it, and the light was always off. Always. Until one night it wasn't. It had rained unexpectedly on race day. The grid girls had been drenched. The organisers, not expecting rain, had kitted them out in tight white tops. The consequences, particularly for the one who'd gone braless were spectacular if you were 15.

Neither of them could wait that night. Emilio didn't even have to send them to bed. As soon as it got near 10pm Alex yawned, which made Alex yawn. Four or five yawns later  Alex announced he was off to bed, Alex announcing he'd go too, save disturbing him in 10 or 15 minutes. Both were barely in their bunks when their boxers were down, fingers around themselves, occasional whispers of "Did you see her?" with occasional breathy comments about nipples. The noises weren't stifled that night, and they'd forgotten to turn the light off. A glance to the right and Alex found himself able to see Alex in the mirror. The grid girl forgoten as they watched each other, the silence returning, like an unspoken rule, words too much.

That's how it continued between them. No talking. No touching. Just  watching.Listening. Learning. Until success brought them their own motor home, their own room, and privacy they weren't totally sure they wanted.


	2. I Like Girls... Right?

It wasn't a date really. More Marc met a girl and, as girls always seemed to do, she came with a friend. This meant Marc needed a friend, and when you are the younger brother you don't get much choice about being that friend.

It wasn't unpleasant. She, Maria, was very pleasant. Pretty, slim and brunette, was probably Alex's type, he reckoned. She was funny and warm, not at all awkward, and she calmed Alex's nerves within minutes by cracking a joke at his brothers expense, something Alex always enjoyed.

He wasn't mirroring Marc's moves completely when he put his arm around the back of Maria's chair, he just knew that's what boys were supposed to do in the cinema with girls, and Maria didn't seem to mind, moving slightly closer so she could rest her head on his shoulder. She wasn't practically on his lap like Emily was with Marc, but that was fine because Alex didn't have his hand under her top like Marc did.

As the film progressed Alex completely lost track, the heat from someone curling into his side distracting. The plot was dire anyway, Emily's choice of chick flick was pretty awful, which was OK for her because she was watching the inside of her eyelids while sucking on Marc's tongue. Luckily Maria was just as bored so was happily snuggling into Alex's side, making him wish the awkward seat arm wasn't there, her hand resting on his thigh actually quite pleasant.

Catching his brothers eye, in a moment of respite from eating Emily, Alex blushed hard at the cheeky raised eyebrow from his brother. The silent encouragement from actually making Alex feel more awkward, until a tiny chuckle and whispered "Ignore them..." from Maria made him look back at her, tightening his arm around her and smiling as she snuggled in so tight he could feel her breath on his neck.

The first kiss was instinctive. They were both giggling, Marc and Emily having been told off by the older lady sat behind them, them going crimson, visible even in the low light. Catching her eye Alex smiled, she was pretty, her eyes especially, and when she glanced, quickly, down to Alex's mouth and th en back up at his eyes, slightly shy, Alex instinctively took the lead. Leaning in to press their mouths together he sighed softly, the feeling of her lips on his nice, her lips much softer, less chafed than his, and her hand sliding onto his chest was good too. Alex found himself sighing, disappointed, when the film ended and the bright house lights came on, interrupting them, and giving Marc an excuse to chuckle at his brother. Again.

Crossing the road to Marc's car his hand found its way to the small of Maria's back, instinct taking over again. Same with the way he held the door open, letting her get into the back seat first, Marc making it plain he wanted Emily in the front next to him. Without the awkward arm rest between them Maria quickly snuggled into him again, her flicking a middle finger at Marc's mock vomiting noise when he spotted their mouths touching in the rear view mirror, the soft, chaste kiss interrupted again. In a pique of bravery Alex brought his hand to her face, delicate fingers stroking her cheek as he opened his mouth slightly, tip of his tongue flicking against her bottom lip, and internally whooping with delight when her mouth opened, her tongue meeting his and the taste of dulled toothpaste, coffee and salty popcorn was shared between them. Soft and languid and it was pleasant, not what Alex expected, but pleasant.

Thanks to Emily's parents being on holiday, and in Alex's mind them being altogether very trusting of their daughter despite her wandering hands and a secret stash of vodka, the foursome ended up in her house. Unsupervised and free to be as wild as they like....

Several vodka fuelled hours later Alex found himself in bed, Emily's bed as Emily had announced with a smirk that she and Marc were having her parents bed, Maria next to him, making tiny snuffling noises as she slept leaning against his chest, in a position Alex felt couldn't possibly be comfortable. Thinking back over the evening he frowned in the dark, his first major experience with a girl not going how he expected it to go at all, and that confusing him.

Left alone in the lounge when marc and Emily vanished with zero apologies, Alex was pleased when Maria, probably sensing his nerves and inexperience took the lead, draping her legs over his lap, so her body was turned toward him as she pulled him in for another kiss, more tongue involved as her fingers tangled in his hair and a soft moan of encouragement came from her throat as his hand touched skin, exposed by her top riding up, and moaning again when he took the hint and let his fingers splay on her back, skin on skin.

following her lead he let himself be pulled down onto the sofa, her half under him, their tongues tangling, her fingers digging into his back, one under his top, the other over, ttrying not to move too quick or spook him, him well aware that he probably looked like a deer in headlights, not entirely sure what he was doing. His cock rock hard in his pants, nervous she'd feel it as she pulled him tighter to her, only relaxing when she whispered a few words, good but making him blush, assuring him she was just as turned on, her hand guiding his under her skirt, letting him feel for himself as nervy fingers delved between her legs, trying to listen to her sounds, the wetness distracting him, pleased when she nipped on his lip as he braved sliding one finger into her, obviously liking his bravery. Polite swearing falling from her as he experimented, rocking his hand, sliding his fingers, responding to the breathy " _There!_ " until she was biting his lip andshuddering under him, seemingly in bliss.

Relaxing into the pillow when she rolled onto her side, facing away from, Alex bit his lip as he remembered her hand cupping him through his jeans, knowing what she was doing as she manoeuvred them so he was on his back, nimble fingers popping his button and tugging on his zip, before her hand was back _there_ again, touching and stroking him, smiling at the gasps noises he couldn't stop making before he made _that_ noise, too good a feeling to care about howquickly it had happened. His cock twitching, but at the thought of being touched, not necessarily about being touched by Emily.

Rolling onto his side, facing away from her, he sighed, confused at the thoughts in his brain, dreading the twenty questions he'd get from marc in the morning, knowing his brother would be surprised that he hadnt gone _all the way_  and knowing that he'd be even more surprised by the fact that Alex didn't mind that. All all. nor did he think marc would be impressed by the fact he found touching Maria weird. Everything too squishy, alien, and not something he was in a rush to do again.


	3. I'm Your Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not incest, in case anyone was wary. Sorry if that's disappointing!!
> 
> [2012/2013 setting]

“OK…” Marc flopped down on Alex’s bed, concern on his face, “What’s going on? Spill…”

Rolling onto his side, facing the wall, more importantly facing away from Marc, Alex shrugged, “Nothing.”

“Bullshit…” Marc moved until his back was against the wall, ignoring Alex’s complaints as he squashed his legs, “I’m not going anywhere…”

Alex huffed, screwing his eyes shut, “I’m trying to sleep.”

“That’s fine,” Marc shrugged, pulling his phone from his pocket, smile on his face, “I’ll wait.”

Cursing, the frustration bubbling in his stomach, Alex moved onto his back, “Can you not just fuck off?!”

“No, I can’t,” Marc shook his head, emphasising his point, before putting his phone on his lap, “You’ve been rude and grumpy… Ok, ruder and grumpier, for days. Something is _obviously_ bothering you. I’m your brother…”

“I know that,” Alex sighed, knowing Marc would pester him relentlessly until he gave in, “I just… I really don’t want to talk about this.”

“Well that’s just tough,” Marc laughed softly at Alex’s pained look, “You made me talk about the eye…”

“That was different…” Alex interjected, defensive, “That was important.”

“I think this is important…” Voice softer than usual, Marc’s eyes almost drilled into Alex, as if he could sense his brother’s unease, “You know? I mean you know that no matter what it is it’ll be ok, right?”

“You don’t know that,” Alex sighed, pulling a pillow over his face, “You can’t know that.”

“Between us I do,” Tugging the pillow away, no hint of the usual cocky grin on his face, Marc nodded, adamant, “Nothing can come between us. Ever. Not titles, not bikes, not injuries, not girls, not… Why was that funny?”

“Fuck, you are relentless…” Sitting up, his knees coming up to his chest, Alex’s eyes filled with tears, his voice wobbling, “I don’t know that…”

“Hey…” Moving, shuffling himself up the bed until he was sat next to Alex, back against the headboard, Marc’s face was a picture of concern, “What’s going on?... Is it a girl?”

“No,” Alex laughed, not his usual laugh, a darker, more bitter sound, “It’s not a girl… There are no girls…”

“I know you are shy,” Marc smiled, trying to reassure, “But there will be girls, you just need to speak to them a bit more, tell them some jokes…”

“Marc…”

“Seriously…” Marc interrupted, winking, “What worked with Maria?”

Closing his eyes, the way Marc almost sang Maria’s voice making Alex’s heart sink, his voice almost a whisper, “I didn’t sleep with Maria.”

“Yeah you did…” Marc frowned in confusion, “We didn’t leave til morning, I saw you come out of the room?”

“I slept in the same bed as her, but I didn’t…” Alex tilted his head to the side, Marc surprised when he got the point, Alex’s face beetroot, “We did some stuff, but not…”

“Well next time you are with a girl it’ll feel right and you’ll do some more stuff…” Marc nudged his shoulder, “Maybe you are just waiting for the right girl, Mr Traditional.”

Laughing, ironically, Alex wiped a tear with his hand, “There isn’t going to be a next time with a girl.”

“Alex…” Marc sighed, shaking his head, small smile on his face, “I know your confidence is… Ah… Right… You mean?”

Alex nodded, biting his lip, the fear rushing through his veins showing on his face, worse than hurtling toward the gravel trap on a fast corner, “Yeah…”

“Right…” Marc nodded, processing the information, before lifting his head sharply, shaking it at Alex, “Hey! No way… You _really_ thought **this** would be a problem?”

Alex nodded, tears streaming, streaming faster when an arm was slung around his shoulder, pulling him into a hug as a kiss was pressed to his hair, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Marc shook his head, kicking himself for missing all the clues he could now see were so clearly there, “It’s not a choice, and even if it was it’d be fine… Nothing is ever going to come between us. _Nothing_.”

“I did something stupid,” Alex’s voice was stuttery due to the tears, his eyes wide, scared, “Really stupid.”

“What did you do?” Marc panicked, praying Alex would say _anything_ other than _‘I got caught by the press’_.

Wiping his eyes again Alex swallowed hard, “I kissed Miguel…”

“Oliveira?”

Alex nodded, “Yeah.”

“Right,” Marc frowned, sighing, “Well he’s not **that** ugly so I don’t think the tears are necessary….”

Alex chuckled, not completely as normal, but still better than the tears, “Dick.”

“I’d have thought _that_ was the point…” Marc smirked, laughing as Alex’s face went bright red, before turning serious again, “So, tell me what happened…”

 

 

It was slightly weird. They weren’t friends, not really. Too many people were adamant that Alex wouldn’t have replaced Miguel if it wasn’t for his surname for that to happen.

They had lots in common in many ways. Similar age, same job, same hobbies, both Spanish, but that didn’t quite explain _this_. This being Alex’s back against a cold trailer, Miguel in front of him, their mouths mashed together, Miguel’s tongue in his mouth, his hands pressing into Miguel’s back, pulling him tighter, wanting more.

Being this close, swapping tastes and scents, with Miguel was so different to Maria. Miguel tasted of toothpaste, only a tiny hint of coffee, and that was somewhat similar, but the scents filling Alex’s senses were _so_ different. There was no sweet, floral smell…. Miguel’s scent was stronger, huskier, more petrol and tyres with the tiniest hint of cologne, more, Alex assumed, like his own scent.

Everything about Miguel was _more_. His scent was stronger, his body, pressing Alex against the cold wall, was bigger, the teeth nipping on Alex’s bottom lip were sharper, his tongue was bossier as it rolled over Alex’s. His sounds were deeper and louder. And Alex was harder than he’d been in his life.

Then, as Miguel’s hand pushed between them, palming Alex’s cock and making Alex whimper into his mouth, Alex realised. What he was doing. Where. With who, and he was running. Faster than he’d ever ran before. Not stopping until he was in the motorhome, the door rattling against the wall as he threw it open, and he was on his knees, retching over the toilet, sick with disgust and worry. Disgust at himself. For his thoughts. His needs. And worry. About being seen. About Miguel tell. About the fact he was still hard. Still wanting more. Despite the fact it was wrong.

 

 

“So I let someone know, and I made an idiot of myself…”

“Well,” Marc bit his lip, processing the story, replaying it over in his brain, checking for any possible problems, “Miguel isn’t going to tell anyone, because if you have told it exactly how it happened then _he_ kissed _you_...”

“He did…” Alex shrugged, face going pink again, “He started it…”

“Did he now?” Marc waggled his eyebrows, the tone no different to any other time he’d tried to pull information from his brother, “And did he finish it as well?”

“No,” Alex sighed hard and heavy, “Because I ran away…”

“Why?”

“Because I panicked…” Alex wrapped his arms around his knees, voice quiet, “I liked it. Not Miguel. Well, not _not_ Miguel, but not Miguel… Does that make sense?”

“Because he was a guy, not because he was specifically Miguel?”

“Yeah,” Alex nodded, “It was good. More than good. It wasn’t…… It wasn’t squishy.”

“Squishy?”

Alex nodded again, cheeks flaming, cringing at the words, but comfortable with Marc, “Maria was squishy… So squishy…”

“Girls are squishy,” Marc chuckled, “You don’t like squishy?”

“I prefer hard.”

“Ok,” Laughing as Alex almost died of cringe at his choice of words, Marc nudged his shoulder playfully, “So what was the problem with Oliveira then? Not hard enough?”

“Marc!” Alex shook his head, sighing again, “He was hard. And he was _hard_ … I could feel it, him, through my jeans… Can I talk to you about this? Really?”

“Of course you can…” Marc smiled, genuinely warm, the love for his younger brother clear and obvious, “You can talk to me about _anything_.”

“It’s wrong though…”

“I’m your brother…” Marc trailed off, shaking his head, “No. No, Alex, it’s not wrong…”

“It is,” Tears back in his eyes, Alex bit his lip as his head dropped onto his knees, “It’s a sin.”

“Sex before marriage is a sin…” Marc kissed Alex’s head again, “Eating meat on a Friday is a sin. Getting drunk is a sin… Lots of things were seen as sins that people think nothing of now… You like guys. I like brunettes. It’s not something we’ve chosen. It’s just feelings.”

“I like brunettes…” Alex sounded almost mournful, “I don’t know what to do…”

“Well,” Marc chose his words carefully, realising Alex hadn’t totally accepted himself yet, “I think the first thing you need to do is stop running away…”

“But…”

“But nothing… It’s not going to change. If you like not squishy then you like not squishy… It’s not going to change.”

“I wish it could.”

“I know,” Marc nodded, understanding, or at least trying to understand, “But it’s not. You are Alex Marquez. You ride bikes. You read too few books. You like shit movies. You are too untidy, and you eat the last of the cereal _way_ too often… And you like guys. It’s not who you are, it doesn’t have to define you. It’s just part of you.”

“Thank you,” Alex wiped another tear, a different kind, overwhelmed again, but this time for good reasons, “Thank you so much.”

“I’m your brother,” Marc nudged his shoulder, pausing for a few seconds before raising an eyebrow, tone perfect, “So, Oliveira eh?”

Alex groaned, grabbing the pillow, covering his face, “Can you not just fuck off?….”

“Nope,” Marc laughed, tugging the pillow away, “Spill…”

 


	4. Stay?

His brain racing, in this position again, Alex felt the panic begin to bubble. The instinct to flee ringing around in his head, like a claxon ordering an emergency evacuation.

“Hey… You ok?”

Opening his eyes, his heart racing, lungs burning from a kiss that was as hot as it was unexpected, Alex nodded, not particularly convincingly, “Yeah.”

“You sure? If you’re not… Then I can...”

“No,” Alex shook his head, his cock reacting as he took in the sight of the other, lips swollen and red, hair messy, messed by _his_ hands, “I am… I just… Getting caught… I get nervous… And I’m not… Not very… Well, you know…”

“You’re cute…” Smiling, his face warm and friendly, Ricky bit his lip, eyes full of _something_ , “We could get out of here… I mean, we all love RACC and all, but these events, they’re all the same… Unless you want to stay?”

“Yes,” Alex blushed hard, knowing he was stuttering, “I mean no. Fuck… No, to staying. Yes. To getting out of here.”

“Cool,” Ricky stepped in again after a quick check that the corridor, one Alex wasn’t sure how they’d ended up in after a couple of beers and a cheeky conversation at the table, taking Alex’s breath away again with a kiss that was consuming, “You go make whatever excuse you need to make to escape your brother. I’ll meet you in the car park in five…”

“Ok,” Alex nodded, moving away, before pausing, ducking down to claim Ricky’s lips again, the burst of bravery feeling good as Ricky moaned softly into his mouth, leaving them both smiling as he walked away, concocting a story for Marc that would let him escape in relative peace.

 

Strolling along the street, nervous at being in public without Marc or Hector, Alex laughed at Ricky’s raised eyebrow, “What?”

“You won’t get mauled… Well, not in the street at least…” Ricky winked, chuckling as Alex brushed deep red, “So what did you tell your brother?”

“I just said I was leaving,” Alex giggled, the memory of Marc calling after him, desperate for gossip, but being unable to chase his younger brother thanks to being sat at the top table amusing him, “He’ll kill me tomorrow, but it’ll be worth it. I hope."

“Oh it will be… It’s just along this street…”

 

“Nice place…” Kicking off his shoes, Alex hung his jacket next to Ricky’s, just time to let the fabric go before his back was against the wall, the older man practically launching at him, their teeth clashing as the kiss got desperate, Alex’s hands in Ricky’s hair again, tugging and pulling, Ricky’s hands on Alex’s sides, finger tips teasing his skin, before sliding behind him, trailing down his back to find his ass, digging in as Alex whimpered, his cock, hardness barely hidden in suit trousers, was pressed between their bodies, everything desperate and needy.

“Wait…” Ricky stepped back, breathless, “When you said _‘Not very’_ how not very did you mean?”

“Does it matter?” Alex cringed, blushing hard, feeling about twelve, “I want it. You. This…”

“I can feel that…” Reaching out, Ricky palmed Alex’s cock, making the younger swear, his hips bucking away from the wall, the whimper pathetic as Ricky pulled his hand away, “But it does matter… If you tell me you’ve been fucked before, regularly, then I’m going to take you here and now because _fuck me_ you are stunning….”

“Oh…” Flattered, but feeling awkward, Alex opened his mouth to speak, closing it when Ricky shook his head.

“Don’t lie…” Ricky smiled, kind, lusty look not gone, “If I have to take you upstairs, take an hour to open you up and get the honour of being your first I _really_ don’t mind, but don’t lie. There’s no shame in it. We all have to have a first time at some point.”

“I… Well… I… I kissed a guy a while back, but…” Alex hung his head, mortified, “I wasn’t really sure. My head was pretty messed. There was a girl, but… She was squishy…”

“Yeah, girls are. I prefer this…” Running his hand down Alex’s chest, thumb teasing his nipple through his shirt, Ricky smiled, voice thick and lusty, eyes dark, “Nice and firm… You’re sure you want this?”

“Fuck yes…” Alex thumped his head against the wall, Ricky’s fingers teasing him through his shirt turning him on more than anything ever had, “Please…”

“Upstairs…”

 

 

“You ok?” On his knees, between Alex’s legs, their clothes long since shed, the kiss against his bedroom door lasting for long enough to make their jaws ache, clothing peeled off amidst nipped lips and wandering hands, Ricky bit his lip, smiling at the debauched look on Alex, messy hair, swollen red lips, blown pupils, “Alex?”

Nodding, his head pressing back into the pillow as Ricky’s cock touched his again, the sensation like sparks, Alex whimpered, “Yeah… Please… _Please_ …”

“You just say stop if you want to stop… Ok?”

Alex wailed as Ricky leant down, tongue swiping over his tip, making his fists clench in the sheet as it swirled around, licking his tip like a lollipop, before his lips surrounded him, letting him slide over his tongue, the hot wet heat surrounding him, Ricky’s cheeks hollowing, making him curse aloud as Ricky’s fingers  found their way to his balls, fondling him in a way that made him want to explode, his hand going to Ricky’s head, fingers tangling in his hair, “Please… Ohgodohohohfuckplease… OhohohfuckohohohRICKY!!!!”

Wiping the corner of his mouth, Ricky smirked as he sat back on his heels, his cock rock hard and almost painful, the sight of Alex something he’d never forget, the younger completely wrecked, “Ok?”

“No…” Alex shook his head, breathless, “So more than ok…”

“Good…” Reaching to the nightstand for the lube and a condom, putting them down beside him Ricky reached for a pillow, “Roll over…”

 

 

Expecting cold, slick lube, Alex quivered when instead it was a warm, wet tongue that flickered against his hole. His face buried in the pillow, flushed red at Ricky’s fingers prying his cheeks apart, looking at him _there_ , making him wail at tiny, flickering touches, that followed by thick wet licks, Alex groaning at the sensations, his cock twitching, body trembling, before startling at the sound of the lube cap snapping open, it somehow too loud in the room, Ricky’s voice soft as he reassured him, the lube put back down, his tongue back, warm and gentle.

 

 

“Oh…”

“Ssssh….” Flicking his tongue around his finger, Alex obviously finding the sensation of someone else’s finger pushing into him weird, Ricky lapped at his rim, a hand on the small of Alex’s back to stop him moving too much, “Just relax babe…”

“Hnng…” Tensing as a second finger teased at his hole, enough lube to be slippy, loose enough from Ricky’s ministrations for it to push in with only an uncomfortable stretch, not too bad, just weird, Alex mewled against the pillow as the fingers crooked and touched _something_ that made him see stars.

“That’s it…” Ricky purred, his fingers brushing Alex’s prostate, the sounds from Alex beautiful. Twisting his wrist Ricky poured more lube as he slid his fingers out, not wanting to risk Alex at all, sliding them back in, drawing _those_ noises again, sliding a bit faster, scissoring his fingers, mesmerised by the way Alex’s body was opening for him.

 

 

“Oh…” Alex bit his lip, the third finger stinging, him only ever having used two fingers on himself, the sensation of fullness weird, but butterflies fluttering in his stomach at the way Ricky reacted to his sounds, his tongue back around his fingers, lapping at Alex’s rim luxuriously, occasionally moving down to his balls, making him almost squeal when it found a spot behind his balls, one Alex didn’t know existed, but one that make him jerk up, Ricky’s hand holding him down, sensations incredible and making the sting disappear, especially when Ricky’s fingers found the little bundle of nerves again, stroking it softly, making Alex body, bar his cock, limp as he keened, begging for more, needing more.

 

 

“Stop!” Pain ripping through him, Ricky’s cock too big and blunt, ripping him in half, Alex felt the panic consume him, “Fuck, that hurts and…”

“Sssh… Stop moving…” Nuzzling into Alex’s neck, the kisses distracting the younger man slightly, Ricky stilled, not fully seated, “It’ll be ok, it passes. I promise…”

“I can’t… Oh…” Biting his lip, tears springing to his eyes, Alex was conflicted, Ricky’s mouth on his skin heavenly, his cock definitely reacting to that, but the pain, like a burning, too much, “I don’t know…”

“Trust me…” Pushing a hand under Alex, finding his cock half hard, Ricky wrapped his fingers around him, Alex whimpering at that, relaxing him enough for Ricky to push in the last inch, the two sensations conflicting, “It’ll be amazing… Promise…”

“I don’t… _Fuck!_ ” Breath stolen as Ricky moved slightly, his cock finding Alex’s prostate, stars flashing across the younger man’s eyes, Alex screwed his eyes shut, “Just do it.”

“No,” Suckling Alex’s skin, fingers still working his cock, his other hand lacing with Alex’s, thumb stroking reassuring circles, Ricky waited, “Relax babe, it’s all ok… There's no rush...”

“I can’t…”

“You can,” Nudging his prostate again, Alex wailing loud, Ricky took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, his balls wanting to explode, his instinct wanting to fuck Alex into the mattress, but knowing he had to wait, letting the younger relax and ready himself.

“Oh fuck…” As the burn finally subsided Alex cringed at the noises coming from his mouth as Ricky moved, tiny little thrusts, each one aimed for the place that made him scream, “Oh god please…”

“Steady…” Sliding further, pushing deeper as Alex reacted, Ricky’s eyes rolled the first time Alex pushed back against him, every ounce of self-restraint needed, the pace building until the sound of slapping skin filled the room, mingling only with breathy gasps, occasional curses from Alex, Ricky’s lip bitten hard as he rocked against him, both of them hurtling toward the edge.

 

 

“Oh fuck… Fuckfuckfuckfuck… Rickyfuckpleasefuckpleaseplease…” Ricky’s hand tugging on his cock as his cock aimed at his prostate on every deep thrust, Alex wailed loud, his balls tightening as his cock pulsed, cum coating Ricky’s hand, the clenching of Alex’s body hauling Ricky over the edge with him, curses filling the air.

 

 

“Hey, you ok?” Rolling onto his side, the condom knotted and chucked in the bed, Ricky wrapped an arm around Alex’s waist, the quietness of the younger worrying him, “Alex?”

“Yeah,” Alex nodded, rolling onto his side, wincing slightly, “I’m good. It was good, so good…”

“It’ll hurt a bit, but not for long. And the more you…” Laughing as he blushed, that making Alex giggle, Ricky prodded his side, “Oi…”

“I don’t know what to do now,” Alex frowned, the honesty something he wondered if he should have kept to himself.

“Now we catch our breath… Then we shower,” Leaning up on his elbow, Ricky trailed his eyes down Alex’s body, “Then we sleep, and maybe in the morning we could teach you a few more things… If you like... Stay?”

“I like,” Breathing in Ricky, the older man moving until their lips were almost touching, Alex bit his lip, “I like…”

 


	5. Today

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final part of Unabashedtimetravelcandy's amazing prompt!
> 
> I'm so sorry this is so delayed. I've been really not well. I'm also sorry about the ending, it's not exactly as I hoped, but I hit a proper brick wall. I hope it's still ok.
> 
> Thank you so much for this prompt, and all the comments. I've really loved this one x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set in 2014. Each moment is from a different race. I hope it flows ok!

It started subtle. Friendship really… But more. Somehow, for Alex, always more. Little touches. Pats on the back. Hugs that lasted a millisecond longer than they should.

The hugs started in Qatar. Second a huge achievement in a big season.

“Well done,” Guille had said. Whilst slapping him on the back, painful, but welcome. There had been no booze in Qatar, which was probably a good thing on reflection because Alex felt like he was flying, like he was free, and that tended to be when he made bad decisions.

 

COTA was different. The hug was different.

“Come on,” Guille said, slapping his back softer, “Chin up. We’ll bounce back in Argentina.”

Shaking his head, his big eyes filled with tears, Alex bit his lip, “Last lap. Last fucking lap.”

“Everybody makes mistakes,” Guille smiled, “You won’t make the same one again. Chin up and move on.”

Alex nodded, smiling softly at the tone in Guille’s words. Knowing that the tone meant “Yeah, you fucked up, but it’s ok.” That tone that only your friends or family had. The tone of people who meant something.

 

“Yes!!” Guille’s slaps were hard again in Argentina, “Eleventh to second is brilliant!”

Slapping his back in return, Alex grinned, “Fuck that was tough!”

“So many overtakes!” Guille smiled, the pride on his face clear to see, and it making Alex stand taller, “You’ll deserve your beer tonight mate!”

Alex chuckled, “If I can escape Emilio!”

“I think he’s still curled in a ball on the wall tbh,” Guille giggled, Emilio’s dramatic emotional rollercoaster ride when Alex, or Marc, raced amusing to them all, “I’ll sneak you one if I have too.”

His stomach bubbling at Guille’s wink, Alex shook his head, laughing, convincing himself it was just adrenaline and focused on enjoying the night, the sneaky beers, and the dancing. Although later he’d want to forget the dancing.

 

“Shit start,” Putting his helmet onto the shelf Alex shook his head, grumbling, “Why is it the shittest at home?”

“Well,” Guille considered his words carefully before shrugging, “It’s not the shittest is it? COTA was worse.”

“Thanks,” Alex chuckled ruefully, “It’s not as shit as the day when you fell off on the last lap….”

“Well it’s not,” Guille shrugged again, unapologetic, “Come on, let’s get the debrief done and we can go for a beer.”

“Beer sounds good.”

“It does,” Throwing Alex a wink, making his stomach flip again, Guille smirked, “You can buy…. To make up for the shittest race _ever_ …”

“Fuck you,” Alex laughed, mood picked up, Guille somehow just as good at that as Marc.

“Come on Marquez, let’s go banish the memories of Jerez… And plot how actual home race will be better!”

 

 “Another beer?” Guille nudged Alex’s shoulder, the younger almost toppling off the sofa, “Lightweight.”

“Fuck you.”

“One day someone will take you up on that offer you know… Be careful.”

“Pfft,” Alex snorted, too drunk to notice the slight nerves in Guille’s voice as he made the joke, as he gave a tiny clue to his rider, too pissed off at the almost offensiveness of finishing fifth to notice, “I hate Le Mans.”

“You’ve said,” Guille rolled his eyes, not hiding his boredom at Alex’s whinging, “Seventh to fifth is good. It’s an improvement and improvements are always good.”

“Oh my god!” Alex’s eyes widened, looking at Guille, before the smirk gave away the fact he was going to laugh, “You have _stolen_ Emilio’s vocabulary!!! Bad Guille!”

“Fuck you Marquez!”

“Careful…” Alex sniggered, ““One day someone will take you up on that offer…”

 

“Fucking Miller. I knew that guy would be trouble. You ok?” Dropping down onto the sofa next to Alex, their post-race beer now a ritual, Guille frowned in concern at the nod, “Hand?”

“Scraped.”

“Ribs?”

“Fine,” Alex frowned, confused, “Why?”

“Looked like Bastianini’s bike hit you,” Guille took a deep breath, relieved at the fact Alex was in one piece, properly, not just telling the world he was in one piece, like all the riders did, save someone might decide that they shouldn’t ride with fifty-five broken bones, “I feel like so many of those fucking flares went off my skin is yellow…”

“They should just rename the place Mugello-Yellow…” Alex rolled his eyes, taking a sip of beer, before shaking his head, “Last fucking lap.”

“Forget it,” Guille insisted, “Wasn’t your fault. Drink beer and then it’s time to go home…”

 

“Fucking John McPhee!” Guille shouted over the music, making Alex frown in confusion, “He got fastest lap… Your wiki would have looked so much prettier with Pole, Fastest lap AND winning rider!”

“Prettier wiki?” Alex laughed, knocking back the shot, “I love a weekend where your only fucking concern is prettier wiki pages!”

“Me too!” Signalling the barman, ordering two more shots, Marc having disappeared from the double celebration, no doubt off to celebrate in private with the prettiest girl in the room, Guille chuckled, “You did give Emilio heart failure when you wiggled over the kerbs near the end though!”

“I bet!” Alex giggled, a loud, amusing sound, “Can’t have a race without making Emilio nearly die though…”

“True,” Guille nodded, both of them giggling for a minute, before he giggled again, “Did you see Miller’s face at not being on the podium? He’s going to be trouble that one. Watch him.”

“Can’t watch him if he’s behind me…” Alex giggled again, the confidence of winning making him cheeky.

“Fuck you Marquez…” Guille shook his head, waving a waggy finger at the obvious retort on Alex’s tongue, “Don’t lower yourself…”

“Sometimes lowering yourself is good…” Alex winked, letting the girls from hospitality drag him onto the dancefloor, too drunk to care about uncoordinated limbs, too busy giggling at the pained look on Guille’s face.

 

“Hey Jorge, have a beer…” Guille crumpled in laughter at the look on Alex’s face, “Well if you will get out in front and run away with races…. Comparisons will _have_ to be made.”

“No,” Alex shook his head, face wrinkled like he had a bad taste in his mouth, “They don’t.”

“They will…” Guille shrugged, trying to paint an innocent look on his face, “Don’t fight it. Anyway, you said you’d rather be compared to someone other than Marc so….”

“I won. At Assen. Second race in a row,” Alex huffed, only the glint in his eyes making it obvious he was joking, “And you are picking on me…”

“Got to keep your feet on the ground somehow…” Guille held his bottle up, grin breaking onto his face, “Two in a row baby…”

“Cheers!” Alex clinked their bottles together, before taking a long sip, “You know my brother thinks I can win this season…”

“I know,” Guille nodded, “I agree.”

“But…”

“But nothing. Especially with Miller crashing out today,” Guille patted Alex’s leg, little gestures like that between them so natural, “Just don’t you worry about that. You keep doing what you are doing and we’ll do the worrying for you.”

“Thanks,” Alex smiled, before grinning wide, “Assen… I won at Assen!”

“I know,” Guille laughed, before frowning, “Don’t be getting an ego though…”

“Fuck you…” Alex chuckled, Guille’s eyes rolling, the room silent for a moment before Guille coughed, taking a drink, and Marc barrelling through the door, disturbing the silence, looking for a joint victory celebration.

 

“If I hadn’t wobbled…  Four laps to go,” Alex shook his head, huffing hard, “I could have had Masbou sooner… Then maybe even Binder too.”

“Shit loads of people crashed today,” Guille patted his leg, his hand on Alex’s thigh something that was so common neither of them even noticed, “Sachsenring is a cruel mistress… Fourth isn’t a bad result. Look at Rinsy…”

“He’s pissed,” Alex winced, “Says it wasn’t his fault.”

“Maybe it wasn’t,” Guille shrugged, finishing his bottle and opening two more, one for each of them, “It’s just racing. Sometimes it’s your fault and sometimes it isn’t. You just got to roll with the punches.”

“Just because you called me Jorge last race round,” Alex jabbed Guille’s ribs, “Doesn’t mean you need to start with the quotes shit…”

“He who mock…” Guille trailed off, laughing, his head back on the sofa, Alex’s eyes drawn to the taut skin on his neck, “I can’t even think of anything else to finish that! I’m shit at quotes.”

“Well you are bloody good at your actual job so I’ll forgive you…”

“So kind of you,” Guille rolled his eyes, chuckling, “Fuck you Marquez.”

“Be my guest…” Alex chuckled, his head back on the sofa, daring, but jokingly, “You’ve gone all red…”

“Fuck you!”

 

“Urgh,” Flopping back on his bed, Guille perched on the edge, Alex shook his head, “Sixth. Fucking sixth. Marc won again and I came _sixth_ …”

“Hey,” Shuffling up the bed Guille frowned, “Don’t do that… Your brother is a freak of nature, yeah?”

“I think that should probably be offensive…” Alex chuckled dryly.

“Sometimes freak can be a compliment,” Guille shrugged, unapologetic, squishing the spare pillow into a comfortable position as he lay next to Alex, “Today wasn’t the best day ever, but Fenati and Vasquez were fucking quick…”

“And Miller…” Alex sulked, “And Masbou, and Rins… Sixth.”

“Sulking about sixth just proves that the people who doubt you are wrong,” Guille narrowed his eyes, “I know you read those things online…”

“I’m not as good as Marc,” Alex picked at his finger nails, unable to look up, “I know I shouldn’t be competitive, but…”

“You two are competitive about everything,” Guille laughed softly, more reassuring than taking the piss, “Marc likes American tracks. You don’t have the same luck on them. It doesn’t make you shit. It just means you had a bad day.”

“True,” Alex sighed, “I wish I could have a beer. Or a hug. I just…”

“Come here…” Holding out his arms, instinctive, Guille froze for a second, before laughing, “Well I can’t break the law and get you a beer so…”

“Thanks…” Wriggling into Guille’s hold, his head cradled on the older man’s arm softly, Alex closed his eyes, his ear pressed against Guille’s chest, the soft, rhythmic thud of his heart beating soothing, “I’ll have to write this into your job description.”

“Don’t you dare,” Guille laughed, soft, whispering somehow seeming right, “My name _isn’t_ Santi…”

Alex giggled hard, relaxing, things feeling much better, “Santi does give good hugs… Though I think yours might be better. If you work at them…”

“Fuck you Marquez.”

 

“I hate Brno,” Marc grumbled, perched on Alex’s sofa, “Urgh fourth.”

“I know,” Alex grumbled, “It’s shit.”

“Could be worse,” Guille patted Alex’s leg, everything slightly weird with Marc around, “Did you see Miller’s face?”

“I keep telling you,” Alex giggled, already tipsy, “I can’t see him when he’s behind me…”

“Fuck you,” Guille shook his head, downing his beer, “I’ll leave you two to it.”

“You don’t have to leave,” Marc smiled, sober enough to have spotted the flash of disappointment on his brother’s face, “Not on my account.”

“I don’t want to intrude…” Guille shrugged, clearly feeling out of place.

“You’re not,” Alex smiled, passing the older man another drink, “Really you are not.”

“Ok,” Guille smiled, slightly awkward, sensing Alex was also feeling awkward, “Thanks.”

 

“Podium!” Alex wrapped Guille in a hug, “Fucking hell it feels like ages!”

“Since you last smothered me to death?” Guille wriggled free, giggling at Alex’s red face, “Three races you were off it… You Marquez boys are so greedy…”

“You love it,” Alex wiggled his eyebrows, half-drunk already, “Fucking yes. I could have won it, but, yes, podium!”

“I’ll drink to that,” Opening two more drinks, feeling a fizz as their fingers touched when he passed Alex his, Guille held up his bottle, “Here’s to you remembering how it’s done…”

“Fuck you Guille!” Alex laughed, shaking his head, “Cheeky fucker.”

“You love it,” Guille winked, both of them taking a drink, then jumping as Marc barrelled through the door.

“Double brother podium!”

 

 “And we thought Mugello was yellow….”

“I know…” Alex peered out of the window, the Rossi victory exploding Misano into a sea of yellow smog, “Podium…”

“Yep,” Guille handed Alex a beer, sensing the younger man’s nerves, “Don’t think about it.”

“Can’t help it,” Alex picked at the label, “I know you and Marc have always believed, but…”

“Just keep doing what you are doing. Leave the worrying to us,” Slinging his arm along the back of the sofa Guille ruffled Alex’s hair, “Seriously, you are doing great.”

“What if…”

“Leave the what ifs for another day. Today is for celebrating,” Guille held up his bottle, “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” Alex clinked their bottles, before frowning, “No cheeky comment?”

“Nah,” Guille winked, “You clearly aren’t going to take me up on the _‘Fuck you’_ so I’ve given up…”

“Disappointing…” Alex shook his head, eyes teasing, “Never had you down as a quitter…”

“Pfft…”

 

“Fucking prick…”

“Calm down.”

“How dare he complain! The dry line is the dry line for fuck’s sake!”

“Guille…” Alex smiled, highly amused by the ranting and raving of the older man, Guille pacing up and down the motorhome, “Calm down…”

“He could have taken you out!”

“But he didn’t…”

“And he fucking complained!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Lifting two beers, snapping the tops open, Alex held one out to Guille, “Come on, beer to celebrate second…”

“I told you,” Guille took the beer, swigging some down, fury written on his face, “He’s trouble. He is trouble.”

“Guille,” Alex put on his best Roser voice, “I’m leading the championship AND we got a podium… So we need to celebrate that and forget about Miller…”

“Bossy…”

“You know it,” Alex winked, amused and happy in victory, before he stopped, frowning, “You are really pissed off about this?”

“Yeah,” Guille shook his head, fuming, “He’s just…”

“You need a hug,” Alex put his beer down, opening his arms, “Come on, lets hug it out.”

“I don’t need a hug…”

“Of course you don’t,” Alex laughed, Guille walking into the hug even as he spoke, both of them going quiet as their arms wrapped around each other, “It’s alright. It’s still going to plan.”

“Yeah…” Guille nodded, voice muffled by Alex’s jacket, before coughing, wanting to divert the weird tension that had crept into the room, “Your hugs aren’t as good as Santi’s…”

“Fuck you.”

 

Japan 1st

“Did you see what Kent did?!” Alex shook his head, outraged, “I mean for fuck’s sake!”

“I know,” Guille sat down on the end of the bed, equally furious, “Twats. I mean what even… Hang on, am I supposed to be calm?”

“Eh?” Alex stopped pacing long enough to look at Guille and frown, “Why would you be calm?”

“Well because you are mad?” Guille bit his lip, momentarily wondering if he’d said too much, “One mad, one calm… That’s the usual…”

“Well usually Danny Kent hasn’t tried to fuck my race so….”

“Fair point,” Guille nodded, downing the bottle of whatever it was in the mini bar, wincing at the burn, “Fuck me that’s strong…”

“Well that’s new,” Alex giggled, the fury leaving him in a wake of shaking shoulders and hysterical giggles, “One day someone will take you up on that…”

Flicking his middle finger as he flopped down onto the bed Guille shook his head, “Fuck you Marquez.”

“Make up your mind…”

 

 “And I said….” Alex stopped, frowned, before laughing hard, “I haven’t a fucking clue what I said!”

“Idiot,” Guille giggled, Alex properly drunk, “I should go, leave you and Marc and Tito…”

“No…” Alex threw his arms around Guille’s neck, too drunk to be embarrassed about anything, “Stay! We’re celebrating. Second is good, in Miller’s back yard I’ll take second. I **did** take second. Second is… Well it’s second.”

“So insightful!” Guille chuckled hard, one arm around Alex’s waist, steadying them as the younger threatened to topple them over.

“Fuck you Guille, fuck you!”

 

“Hey… You ok?” Guille perched on the end of the bed, Alex curled up like a scolded child, “Fifth isn’t something to be missing Tito’s title party for…”

“I went for a bit. I’m just not in a party mood,” Alex shook his head, deflated, “I should have won this.”

“You are still right in there, have faith,” Guille kicked off his shoes, shuffling back until he was next to Alex, “Hug?”

“Please…” Moving next to Guille, closing his eyes and praying his body would behave, Alex mentally scolded himself, knowing his feelings for the other were growing, but the lure of comforting arms around him just too much, “I think I might hate Danny Kent.”

“I know the feeling,” Guille practically growled, smiling as Alex let out a little laugh, “In Valencia you just have to run your own race. Forget about the rest of them.”

“I know I can win it,” Alex’s fingers played with the button on Guille’s polo shirt, his voice almost a whisper, “I’m just scared they won’t let me.”

“They will,” Guille kissed Alex’s hair, before freezing, grateful that the younger seemed to miss it, “I know it seems like he has a lot of helpers, but you’ve got some too. You’ll do alright. Have faith.”

“I think you have more faith in me than even Marc does,” Alex laughed softly.

“No,” Guille smiled, “I’m just being honest.”

“I’m so tired…”

“Then sleep,” Guille tugged on the duvet, not caring they were both fully clothed, “Sleep while you can.”

“I don’t want to ruin your night…”

“You’re not,” Arms wrapped tightly around the other, Guille kissed his head again, this time knowing Alex couldn’t miss it, “Just go to sleep.”

 

“I did it…” Voice soft, quiet, the realisation starting to settle in, Alex turned to Guille, them in his motorhome, the younger still in leathers, soaked in champagne, tears in his eyes, “I did it.”

“Yeah,” Guille nodded, leaning against the wall, the lump in his throat getting bigger by the minute, “You did it.”

“We did it…” Alex shook his head as Guille opened his mouth to protest, “The bike, the set-up, the calming, everything… I couldn’t have… Fuck, we did it Guille, we won…”

“We did. You did…” Guille bit his lip, both of them getting overwhelmed, everything they’d worked so hard for _finally_ theirs, “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” Alex smiled, before biting his lip, the euphoria of victory making him brave, “Guille?”

“What?”

“Can I have a hug?”

“Sure…” Stepping forward Guille found himself enveloped by Alex, the younger man practically launching himself at him, arms around him like a vice, “Hey… What’s all this about?”

“I just…” Burying his face in the crook of Guille’s neck, Alex took a deep breath, “I just need a hug before I tell you something.”

“You’re moving to Moto2… I already know,” Guille but his lip, tears stinging his eyes, “And if you want a different person…”

“What?” Alex pulled back, hands on Guille’s waist, “No way! If I’m moving I’m taking you with me!”

“You don’t have…”

“I need you.”

“You don’t…”

“Guille…” Alex’s voice deepened, serious, his eyes locked on Guille’s, words obviously heartfelt, “I need you on my side.”

“I’ll always be on your side…”

“Good,” Pausing, the air crackling around them, Alex remembered everything Ricky had said, all the things the older man had taught him, and some that Marc had mentioned, before he stepped closer again, “Guille… I’m… I’m gay…”

“I know…” Guille’s voice was almost choked as he glanced briefly at Alex’s lips before looking back up, Alex smiling, “Alex, I…”

Taking the chance Alex pressed their mouths together, the first kiss soft, tentative, chaste, before they parted, mouths separated by millimetres, hot breath washing over the others face, before they crashed back together again, stumbling against the wall, tongues pressing into mouths as fingers pressed into clothing, before they jumped apart at the door banging, someone seeing them and leaving quickly, “Shit… That could have been Emilio…”

“Fuck…” Guille began to panic, before his phone beeped, a rude message from Marc appearing, “It was your brother…”

“Fuck,” Alex laughed, mortified, but relieved, “What did he say?”

“About time,” Guille blushed bright red, “And apparently there are condoms in the bathroom cabinet…”

“You’ve gone all red,” Alex teased, stepping closer again, smirking.

“Fuck you Marquez…”

“Today is the day…” Alex grinned, unzipping his race suit, “Told you someone would take you up on it one day…”

Reaching to lock the door Guille kicked off his shoes, grinning, “Didn’t think it’d take you the whole fucking season!”

“It’ll be worth it,” Mashing their mouths back together Alex let himself be guided toward the bedroom, one of his hands moving to Guille's ass, squeezing and swallowing the moan that drew, winning definitely the best feeling in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If i get the energy then I'll write the sex bit at some point. Sorry x


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